Her chin rises and she bares her throat to him, eyes closed, trust and longing shimmering through the soft sighs his touch elicits. He touches the nape of her neck and goosebumps rise, running down her shoulders and arms. She keeps touching him, tries to focus on feeling where he's put on new muscle, where his ribs aren't as pronounced as they were a month ago.

He runs his fingers through her hair and she buries her face against his shoulder, her fingertips gently digging into his back. She can't help it; worse, she doesn't want to.